


love is just another poison (Reylo One-Shot)

by Celestia_ships_reylo



Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Murder, Ben Solo Loves Rey, F/M, Grandparent Sheev Palpatine, Heiress Rey (Star Wars), King Ben Solo, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Marriage of Convenience, Poison, Poisoning, Regret, Rey Loves Ben Solo, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Rey is Bad at Feelings (Star Wars), Rey is Trying Her Best (Star Wars), Rey is a Mess (Star Wars), Rey is a Palpatine (Star Wars), Sheev Palpatine Being A Creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 11:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30071571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestia_ships_reylo/pseuds/Celestia_ships_reylo
Summary: Rey, granddaughter and sole heiress to Lord Palpatine, is engaged to marry the young king, Ben Solo. Her mission is to ensure that he doesn’t survive the wedding feast. Her prize is the throne. Her motivation is fear. All she has to do is pour the poison into his wine.The one thing she was never meant to do was fall in love with him....
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 58





	love is just another poison (Reylo One-Shot)

“Your granddaughter, as requested, my Lord,” the servant declared as he led the young Palpatine heiress through the tall wooden doors into the firelit library.

The room was dark, encompassed by shadows, interrupted only by the orange glow of the fireplace. The walls, lined with the decaying volumes of ages past, were all but invisible, for the firelight scarcely reached further than its own hearth. Yet, the heiress knew this room as she knew her own chambers, having spent hours shirking her grandfather’s presence there behind a pile of books. The high-backed chair that stood directly in front of the hearth hid her grandfather from view, but it only increased the ominous mystery of his presence. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, nodding to the servant, who closed the door behind him as he left accordingly.

“You summoned me, my Lord?” the young woman asked, curtsying appropriately without approaching the chair.

“There is no need for such formality, Granddaughter,” Lord Palpatine’s voice cackled from his seat before the fire. “Soon you shall be referred to as queen, child. You ought to become accustomed to treating others as if they are inferior to you. Your rank and station have always required it, and now more than ever.”

“Yes...Grandfather,” she said coldly.

“Come here where I can see you, child.”

Rey stepped forward and strode to her grandfather hesitantly. The dark vermillion of her silken dress trailed behind her, the edges of her train and sleeves lined in lace the darkest possible shade of obsidian. Her brown hair was pulled back into a long, expertly arranged braid. The warm glow of the fire reflected on her hazel eyes, giving them the appearance of liquid gold. She stopped and stood between the fireplace and her grandfather, casting a menacing shadow over both of their faces.

“I believe the king shall approve of you,” he stated after observing her for a moment.

“I take no credit for this arrangement, Grandfather. It is entirely a product of your...careful planning,” Rey declared, the slightest hint of scorn in her voice. It took all her self-control to stop herself from saying “cunning ruthlessness” or “crafty manipulation.” To her relief, her grandfather chose to ignore the contempt in her tone.

“You have been spending time with him, have you not?” he inquired in a way that seemed to shrug off the disdain she had attempted to express.

“If by spending time together you mean sitting across from him in the most formal rooms of his palace and staring daggers at each other, then yes, we have been spending much time together.”

“Why so unsocialable, child? At the very least you ought to attempt to find favor in the eyes of your...future husband.”

“I thought you sent me to capture the throne, not his heart. You did not ask me to attempt to seduce him,” she said with a frown.

“True, true. After all, arranged marriages are not generally conducive to love. I did not need you to win his heart for him to agree to my proposition. The eligibility of our family’s rank and circumstance, as well as the convenience of your...willingness, was quite enough reason for him to agree. If he had already had any interest in another, however...that would have been another matter entirely.”

Rey glared at her grandfather, but said nothing. She had quickly learned to keep her composure steady and her mouth shut as much as possible in her grandfather’s presence.

“Now, tell me. Is everything proceeding as planned?” he asked after a moment.

“Yes, Grandfather. The plan is in place,” she said without enthusiasm.

“Then all that remains is for you to play your part,” Palpatine said with satisfaction. “The king will have only enough time to realize who has killed him before it is too late.”

Rey stiffened. “Is it absolutely necessary to end his life?”

Although she could not clearly see his features, she knew her grandfather’s expression had gone from triumph to anger. “Of course it is, foolish child. How many times must I explain this to you? It is widely known that the young king has no remaining male heirs who could claim the throne. In fact, he has no living relatives that we know of.” Rey was certain that her grandfather had made sure of this. His hand was to be found entrenched in all the worst of tragedies and scandals, but he was careful to leave no evidence by which to incriminate himself. Those who threatened to expose him often ended up dead within a fortnight, regardless of their position in society. She knew this far too well. It was the reason that she herself was an orphan. “Once the wedding has taken place, ifthe king loses his life by some unprecedented tragedy, who will be left to claim the throne but you?”

“I—I understand your reasoning, Grandfather,” she said, trying to choose her words with utmost discretion. “But, is there no other way—”

“What has gotten into you?” he interrupted, outraged. “Why do you advocate for the king’s life, child?”

Her breath caught in her throat at his question. She wouldn’t dare answer it with the truth. Nothing was more dangerous in her situation than the truth. She had lived at her grandfather’s estate long enough to know that telling the truth was an easy way to get oneself killed. But...what could she say? Why, indeed, was she trying to save his life? He spared her the effort of lying.

“Have you...fallen for him?” Palpatine asked in a sneer of pure disgust. He leaned forward in his chair, the tips of his fingers pressed together under his chin in an intimidating gesture.

“Fallen for—no! I’ve done no such thing! You yourself forewarned me against it!” For once, she was glad that her grandfather had trained her to be such a good liar.

Her grandfather frowned, the lines on his shriveled-looking face accentuated by the still-glowing remains of the fire that had begun to die out. “I did indeed warn you. If you have heeded my warnings as you claim, then you shall have no qualms when the time comes to pour that poison into his wine at your wedding dinner.”

Her throat seemed to constrict at the thought of what her grandfather was forcing her to do. True, she had agreed to the plan at the start. But that had been before she had met...Ben.

“You will bring honor to the name of Palpatine, Granddaughter,” her grandfather continued, with newfound vigor in his voice. “Once you secure the monarchy, our family shall regain the throne that was stolen from us. We shall return to our rightful place as rulers.”

Rey nodded, still unable to form words. The terrible realization that the wedding feast—and the consequent murder—would take place in only three days was overwhelming.

“Very well. Commence your preparations. You leave for the palace tomorrow,” he stated with finality.

“Yes, Grandfather,” Rey barely managed to say before striding out of the room, a nervous wreck. She had thought long and hard, but she saw no way of getting herself—or Ben, for that matter—out of this predicament.

* * *

Rey stood in front of a full-length mirror three days later as her ladies-in-waiting helped her dress for the wedding ceremony and the subsequent feast. She had barely seen Ben since she had arrived at the palace two nights ago, but there was nothing unusual about this as there was so much preparation for him to oversee. She sighed, knowing that in a few hours, following the ceremony in which they would exchange their vows, she would be slipping the lethal poison into his drink. Her spirits had never been so low, and her longing for a different life had never been stronger. She didn’t want power; in fact, she had never wanted it. Of course, she would never have true power while her grandfather lived, regardless of her position as queen. He would be the master puppeteer, while she was merely his tool, his figurehead, his key to the power he had craved his whole life. No, Rey had never desired power. She had only ever desired to be loved. Truly loved.

Her parents had loved her, perhaps. She would never know. Their decision to stand up against her grandfather had cost them both their lives. At times she thought them fools for sacrificing themselves by defying Lord Palpatine. At other times she thought herself a coward for not being willing to do the same. Of course, her grandfather had never loved her. He had taught her many things, but he had never cared for her as anything other than his most valuable puppet. And he had never allowed her to have friends of any kind.

And now that she had found Ben...and realized, eventually, that she did indeed love him, and that he loved her just as much in return, she was being forced to kill him too. She looked into the mirror with tearful eyes. Perhaps it was fitting, then, that her wedding dress gave her the appearance of a widow in mourning. An elegant, beautiful, and rather extravagant widow in mourning, but a widow nonetheless.

The entire dress was deepest ebony, the color of starless nights. The skirt itself was a fashionable sea of silk and tulle that gradually widened toward the floor, spreading around her at the base, the lacy hem pooling around her at her feet. Much of the material was gathered behind her with silken ribbon into a long train, yet another flowing extension of lace, silk, and tulle. A single strip of silk ribbon wrapped around her waist and the black silk that began at her throat fell over her shoulders and her arms, its length reaching almost to the hem itself. She sighed. What use was all this finery if the one person who truly thought her beautiful would be dead by the end of the night?

Her most trusted lady-in-waiting was arranging her carefully curled ringlets of hair when a gentle knock sounded at the door. A moment later, the door opened and Ben—the king himself—entered the room. Rey’s lady-in-waiting bowed, looking somewhat flustered. For a moment, he did nothing but stand there looking at Rey, seemingly mesmerized. “You shouldn’t be here, my King,” Rey said after a long minute, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Leave us,” he said, addressing Rey’s lady-in-waiting, who nodded subserviently and scurried off without a word.

“And why must I not be here, m’Lady?” he said with a grin once the door had closed behind the slightly agitated lady-in-waiting. “Can a groom not come see his lovely bride before the wedding ceremony?”

“I suppose _you_ are allowed that privilege, my King” Rey said with a smile as he walked up to her and took her black-gloved hand in his own.

“In but a few hours, I shall have the privilege of calling you my Queen, as well,” he said with a fond smile, looking deep into her eyes.

“And I shall have the privilege of calling you Ben,” Rey said with a laugh. Oh, if only it were true.

“You’ve always had that privilege, my dear,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She smiled up at him, but there was a sadness in her eyes. Almost like grief.

He gazed at her lovingly. “You look beautiful,” he said. “However, I have heard that getting married with the bride dressed in black brings bad luck.”

“For whom? The bride or the groom?” she asked, a sudden hint of melancholy in her voice.

“I don’t know. I suppose we’ll have time to find out.” Rey sighed and looked away from him, the terrible knowledge that they would never have time together weighing over her.

It did not escape his notice. “Is something...troubling you, love?”

She wished she could tell him what she had to do. The terrible crime she would commit just hours later. But she couldn’t. “I—I am afraid.”

“Of what?” he asked, his eyes full of compassion. She could not bear to look into them any longer...if she did, she would lose the little determination she had remaining.

“Of...of the wedding. I’m not sure if this is a good idea at all,” she said, still staring at the bottom right corner of the mirror, avoiding the love in his eyes. “I’ve been forced into this. Arranged marriages are never conducive to love,” Rey said, repeating her grandfather’s words.

Ben was not taking her seriously. Of course he wasn’t...he knew better than to think that she did not wish to marry him. It was what she would have to do next that was eating away at her soul. “That’s not what you implied when you kissed me at Lord Hux’s ball a few weeks ago,” he said, smirk playing on his handsome features.

“I was playing my part, Ben,” Rey lied convincingly, but not convincingly enough to fool him.

“Curious that you made sure no one was watching when you played your part ever so convincingly,” he said, his eyes dancing as he slipped his arm around her waist, letting her rest her head on his chest, hiding the tears that were gathering in her eyes.

Confound this outrageous dress with no back...the feeling of his touch against her skin just made it all the more difficult to imagine a life without him. And it would be her own fault....

“Don’t worry, my dear. I’m sure you’re just nervous about the ceremony,” he said comfortingly, in a more serious tone. She nodded against his chest, although it wasn’t entirely true. “It will be fine. I assure you. After the wedding feast, it’ll all be over.” Rey held back desperate sobs. He had no idea how true his words really were.

When he had left, Rey let heself collapse onto the floor and become a sobbing pile of black silk and tulle. Why was she doing this? Why couldn’t she just throw away the poison, forget about it, and live out the fantasies that she had imagined for the two of them for months now, even though she had known from the start that he would never live past the wedding night? Because she knew that, if she didn’t proceed with the murder, she would incite the wrath of her grandfather, endangering not only her life, but Ben’s, which she was trying to save in the first place. And she wouldn’t put it past Palpatine to expose the plot as her own scheme, leading to her inevitable condemnation to death for attempting to murder the king. How she longed to find a way for them both to live, free from all of this fear. But she couldn’t.

Why did her heart ache so? The pain of knowing that she would soon lose Ben forever ate away at her spirit like an acid. Perhaps love was only another form of poison. The grief, the persevering love that would haunt her for the rest of her life after this night, would wither her from the inside out until there was nothing left.

 _Yes, love is just another poison,_ she thought to herself as she wept, not only for herself, but for Ben, who had never done anything to deserve this fate. Who was the only one who had ever truly loved her.

* * *

Just after the wedding ceremony had taken place, Ben stood by a window overlooking the palace grounds, admiring the beginnings of sunset while he waited for his wife to return. Rey had said something about having to make a last-minute arrangement with the head cook, insisting that she had to go herself. Ben had not withheld her from going, but now he wished that he had. She was taking far too long, and they only had a few precious hours before the clamor of the wedding feast took over their evening. 

Now, alone with his thoughts for once, he wondered why she had been acting so strangely today. Earlier he had attempted to console her by assuring her that it was simply the anxiety that surrounded the wedding. But, in reality, it seemed to be more than that. Ben had considered the possibility that her grandfather, Lord Palpatine, had been grieving her over the marriage somehow. But that wouldn’t make sense. Despite being the horrible man Rey had described him to be, surely he had nothing against his granddaughter’s advantageous marriage. After all, it had been his own proposition. And Ben knew that having the queen herself as a granddaughter would greatly increase Palpatine’s prestige. Therefore it was not reasonable to believe that her grandfather was attempting to discourage Rey from the marriage he himself had first proposed. No, this was something else. But he could not figure out what could be troubling her so.

Meanwhile, having entered the empty dining hall through the door to the palace kitchen the servants used, Rey walked slowly toward the head of the long table, where wine had already been served for each and every guest. Holding back tears, she clutched the tiny glass vial of death in her fist and approached her husband’s seat at the table.

Her teeth gritted in a twisted sort of forced determination that pierced her heart like a dagger, Rey uncorked the vial and held it over her husband’s glass. Closing her eyes, she did not watch as she sealed Ben’s fate—and the fate of the kingdom, for that matter—by emptying the translucent liquid contents of the vial into the wine. She picked up the glass gingerly in one of her gloved hands, gently swirling the solution within the glass until the poison had been fully diluted into the wine.

There was nothing to be done now. Only to put on a straight face and enjoy the precious moments she had left to be with Ben, an illusion of the life they could have enjoyed together had she not just poured that poison into his glass. She wiped a rogue tear from her face with her gloved hands and turned away, leaving the dining room behind quickly the same way she had come.

* * *

Ben had been about to send for her, worrying now that she had been taking far too long in the palace kitchen than was necessary, when she called to him from the long marble staircase behind him. A wide smile graced his features as he watched her descend the steps.

“My Queen,” he whispered fondly as she reached the final step and he gathered her into his arms.

“Ben,” she whispered, her voice trembling despite all her attempts to retain her composure.

Ben gazed down at her features, concerned. She seemed even more distressed than she had been earlier. “What’s wrong, my dear?” he asked earnestly.

How she wished she could tell him the source of her pain. But as much as she hated lying to him, the truth would have endangered many more than herself.

“I’m fine, Ben, really. It’s simply...the stress of the wedding feast, I’m sure. There is so much to oversee—” she lied, unable to meet his eyes.

“Rey,” he said quietly, knowing full well that she was lying to him, “don’t worry about the dinner preparations. It’s not that important, despite what my advisors continually tell me. What is important, my love, is that we’re together, is it not?”

She could only nod, choking on the knowledge that they wouldn’t be together for much longer. Ben wiped a stray tear from her cheek and she sighed. She had not meant to cry in front of him. She had hoped to spare him the sight of the grief that would soon become her existence.

Knowing that the longer she stayed with him, the closer she came to breaking her resolve and finally pouring out to him the reason for her grief, Rey made up an excuse to leave. At least it wasn’t another lie; her mascara-stained tears had certainly smeared her face in a most unflattering manner. “Oh, Kaydel is going to hate me,” she muttered, bringing her hand up to her cheek and wiping away the vestiges of her teardrop.

“Kaydel?”

“One of my ladies-in-waiting. She worked so hard on this,” Rey explained, gesturing toward her newly smudged makeup.

“I’m sure she will not mind. Are you going to go ask her to fix it?”

“Yes. Although, knowing her, she might keep me there for an hour. She’s quite the perfectionist.”

“Very well,” Ben said, taking her hand and kissing it gently, although, as usual, it remained gloved. “I shall meet you here before the feast begins.”

Rey nodded and left rather hurriedly. Ben waited until he was certain she had gone, then quickly ascended the staircase from which she had come. With only about two hours left before the feast was set to commence, he was determined to find out what she had done in the palace kitchen. There was something somewhat suspicious about her conduct this evening, and he was going to discover the source of her distress. Something in him told him that he might not like whatever answers he would uncover.

* * *

“She came through here alone?” 

“Yes, your Highness, but we did not think much of it at the time,” the head cook said meekly. “We were quite occupied with preparing the meal.”

“Understandable,” the king replied. “So she did not come to you for anything, then?”

“No, sire. She only walked by in the direction of the servants’ entrance to the grand dining hall. Now that I think of it, it is rather strange that she would choose to enter from there. It is seldom used by anyone other than the kitchen’s staff, your Highness.”

The king nodded solemnly. “Thank you,” he said with a finality that signaled to the head cook that he was dismissed. Ben turned and headed through the door to the dining hall, mulling a thousand thoughts and suspicions over in his head. So she hadn’t come to the head cook after all. Then what had she come here to do?

He entered the still-deserted dining hall and was met with a meticulously ordered table, each place arranged appropriately by rank, dozens of glasses of expensive wine glistening in the light of the overhead chandeliers. A sudden and horrible thought occurred to him. _She wouldn’t dare...but her grandfather would,_ Ben reminded himself. _He would do anything for power._ Ben sighed. He had to know.

He walked over to his seat at the head of the table, almost afraid of what he would find. With a determined expression, he lifted his crystal glass up to eye level, swirling the contents around slowly. He felt a pain in his chest when he noticed the slight opalescent quality of the wine that should have been a flawless translucent red. He examined the glass to his right—Rey’s glass—and found that it lacked that murky quality that tainted his own.

So, Lord Palpatine had resorted to poison. It was not an uncommon method of disposing of those in power. As such, Ben knew to recognize the minutest hints of even colorless, tasteless poison in a glass. He wondered why there were none of his wife’s fingerprints left on the glass only for a moment before remembering that she always wore those delicate silken gloves. They would have left no trace by which to show that the glass had been tampered with. There would be no witnesses, no proof against her. And, having already exchanged their vows, she would remain as sole heiress to the throne.

Ben did not believe that this had been her contrivance. Nothing could be further from the truth. If it had been her own plan, she would not have been so vulnerable and grieved all day. She would have been confident and collected, thereby dispelling any suspicion that could arise from the peculiarity of a saddened countenance on her own wedding day—to a king, of all people. Ben was certain that this was Palpatine’s plot, to use Rey as both executioner and puppet queen, while he himself would wield the throne’s power from behind the scenes.

The thought of it made him want to crush the delicate crystal glass in his hand, but he set it down carefully in its place, a plan already forming in his mind. He strode out of the hall with resolute footsteps. The king had arrangements to make.

* * *

Rey, having gathered her composure as best she could in preparation of the wedding feast that would begin in less than an hour now, met Ben at the end of the same marble staircase just as he was descending it. 

“My Queen,” he said, with something less than his usual warmth and fondness. This change in disposition sent a chill down Rey’s spine. She began to wonder what he had been doing during the last hour while she had been in her own chambers. What had caused the sudden coldness in his demeanor?

Ben knew that he should resent her for what she was planning to do to him, regardless of his belief that the plot against his life had been her grandfather’s fabrication. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything toward her except love, compassion, and, in a way, pity. Because he could see in her eyes that the dread of the events that would come to pass in the next few hours had been weighing down her heart for weeks. The pain etched on her face made it seem as if she was already grieving.

But Ben could not forget that Rey had not had the courage to defy her grandfather’s evil will. Perhaps it was the experiences of her own parents that kept her from being bold enough to stand up against him; if Lord Palpatine was good at anything, it was inciting a deep and paralyzing fear in those he wished to control. However, Ben knew that, as both king and husband, he needed to show her that she needn’t fear anyone anymore. And he needed to show her that he was always thinking ahead. He would not be fooled this easily.

“I’m sorry I took so long, Ben. Kaydel fussed over me, as expected.”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly. “We have all the time in the world, do we not?” The minuscule hint of sarcasm in his tone was not lost on her. Was it possible that he knew of what she had done? “Shall we take a final look at the dining hall preparations before the guests begin to arrive?”

“Yes, of course.”

Ben held out his arm for her to take before they walked down the long, wide, mirror-lined hallways, slowly and silently, a strange sort of tension between them, keeping them both somewhat stiff and thoughtful. Rey held her head high, but her spirit felt broken. She kept her gaze on the rich carpet, feeling as if her reflection in the mirror was staring into her soul, accusing her of the horrible things she had done and would do. _I never wanted this,_ she thought to herself bitterly, feeling as if her conscience was dragging on the floor along with the train of her dress. _I only ever wanted him._

“After you,” Ben said as they arrived at the tall wooden doors that led to the dining hall, left wide open in anticipation of the wedding guests’ imminent arrival. Rey took a deep breath as she entered the room that, in a few hours, would be the scene of her husband’s tragic, untimely demise. As the walked along parallel to the long, perfectly symmetrical dining table, both of them looking but not really seeing anything, Ben slipped his arm around her waist comfortingly. Rey felt both relief and heart-shattering regret. Perhaps he _didn’t_ know of what she had done. Perhaps she was just wallowing in paranoia. But she was also drowning in deepest remorse, for she knew now more than ever that she had made the wrong decision.

Ben stopped at the head of the table, where he and Rey would sit this evening, the center of attention at the rare and prestigious wedding feast. He pulled out his chair and settled in it absentmindedly. Rey kept her gaze from lingering too long on the glass in front of him, but her heart was sick at the sight of it. How she wished she could go back on the terrible choice she had made. But to do so now would surely guarantee her own exposure.

“Come sit, my love,” Ben said, gesturing toward his lap and gazing at her with eyes sparkling with the chandeliers’ reflection. Rey let him pull her to him and arranged her dress carefully as he gently helped her onto his lap. They sat together for a long moment in silence, his arm around her, holding her close against him lovingly. Her heart felt fit to shatter. After all she had done, she did not deserve his love, no matter how long she had hoped for it. She was a traitor to him and to the throne. A traitor who loved him above all else, but a traitor nonetheless.

She followed his gaze inattentively, enjoying the warmth of the embrace she was so unworthy of while she still could, until she realized that he was staring at the lethal blood-hued liquid in the crystal glass before him. The empty vial that was still encased in a tiny, hidden pocket of her dress burned with guilt as if she was carrying a hot piece of iron rather than a cool container of glass.

“Just a little taste before the feast won’t hurt, don’t you think?” he said when he noticed her gaze dart quickly from him to the glass that contained his death.

Her eyes widened but she did nothing else to betray the ache of dread that threatened to overcome her. “Perhaps...it would be best to wait until the guests arrive?” she suggested in a shaky voice. Rey knew she was only delaying the inevitable, but she still could not bear the thought of losing him in this way.

“Perhaps,” he said offhandedly. They sat there in silence for a moment, each of them drowning in the pain of their own thoughts. The haunted expression on Rey’s face almost killed his resolve, almost made him reconsider what he was about to do. But Ben knew that it must be done.

“Rey?” he whispered after steeling himself for what was to come.

“Yes, Ben?” she replied, pushing back a strand of jet black hair that had fallen over his face.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” she asked, caught entirely off guard.

“Close your eyes,” he repeated quietly but firmly. “There is something I want to show you.”

Rey was utterly bewildered, but she complied. In her confusion, Rey wondered if it was some kind of wedding custom she had been unaware of. Surely she would have been told—

Her eyes flew open in alarm as she felt the rim of the glass against her lips and Ben’s firm hand behind her neck. He was holding the glass of wine to her lips. The _poisoned_ glass of wine. She looked to Ben, moving only her eyes for she was frozen by fear, only to see the terrible knowledge in his deep brown gaze. He said nothing, but his actions—no, the very look in his eyes—told her everything. _He knew._

“Drink, my love,” he whispered into her ear, slowly, deliberately, in a tone that made her blood run cold. She had little choice, his gentle but unyielding hand placed steadily behind her neck. Her heart was racing. Perhaps there would still be time for her to procure an antidote? She had been foolish not to carry some of it with her. Strange that her grandfather had not suggested it...but, then again, perhaps not. He wouldn’t have much cared if she had died along with the husband he had sent her to kill.

Ben tilted the glass just enough for her to take a sip of it, making certain that she swallowed the murderous liquid. He lowered the glass and looked calmly into the dread on her face, feigning an air of superiority.

He gazed at her a long moment, but she did not say a word, still processing what had just come to pass. Finally, he looked away and raised the glass in front of him. “My turn, I suppose.”

Her shining hazel eyes widened even further, just as he had known they would. “Ben, wait!” He paused with the glass halfway to his lips.

“Would you rather just kiss me, instead? So I know exactly who has succeeded in poisoning me?” he asked, tilting his head to one side and raising an eyebrow, never breaking her frightened gaze.

“Ben,” she whispered, shaking her head quickly. “Please don’t, I—”

“Shh,” he said, his hand under her chin, tilting her head up towards him slightly. “Is this not what you planned for me to do?” Without hesitation, he raised the glass to his lips and took a long, slow sip of the deadly wine.

“Ben...no...why would you, if you knew? I never wanted this—” she whispered in a hoarse voice as he set the glass back down on the table. He wrapped his arms around her as she finally broke into sobs, burying her face in his shoulder.

“If you never wanted this, Rey, then why is there poison in my glass?” he asked tenderly, without a hint of malice or anger in his deep voice.

“It was my grandfather’s plan, even from—from before I had met you,” she explained through shuddering breaths. “He just wanted your power, your throne. I begged him to spare you, but he would not listen. If I had told him that I loved you, that I regretted ever agreeing to this, he would’ve had me killed. I—I didn’t know what to do. I was so afraid. So afraid of losing you. So afraid of endangering both of our lives if I did not follow my grandfather’s instructions.” She sighed, holding him tightly. “I was selfish. And I’m so, so sorry, my love.”

How it had pained him, knowing that putting her through this distress would be the only way to get that information.“Rey,” he said with warm affection. “I understand. I, too, have encountered those who have wished to manipulate me, to use me as a tool. But I don’t believe you selfish, my dear. In the end, you chose to stop me from drinking it rather than allow me to poison myself in retaliation for forcing you to drink it first. In a way, you’ve passed my test. And even when, just for a fleeting moment, I suspected that you had plotted this yourself, I never once stopped loving you, Rey.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks at his earnest declaration. “Oh, Ben, how could you say this now? After all I’ve done? I don’t deserve your affection. What I’ve done...you could not possibly forgive me.”

“I can, and I already have. And I will love you always, Rey, whether you deserve it or not. And, in my eyes, it was Lord Palpatine that poured that poison into my wine,” he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Oh, Ben...I cannot express how much I’ve longed to know whether you’d still love me after what I did to you. But, Ben—what does it matter now?” she said desperately, for she could almost feel the poison running through her veins, the pressure of the minutes ticking away weighing down upon her. “We might not have much more than an hour before—”

“Rey, my love,” Ben said fondly, shaking his head in gentle, amused impatience, “do you really think I would have risked this without precaution?” She gazed up at him, her eyes wide and her long eyelashes still laced with tears. A smirk lit up his face. “I had the antidote prepared. It’s in the kitchen.”

Rey stared up at him in shock for a moment, her lips parted in surprise. “Y-you’re serious?” she asked breathlessly, the slightest of smiles creeping onto her features. Ben nodded, grinning and losing himself in her gaze.

Her face finally broke into a smile of pure relief and gratitude. “Oh, Ben...I—I love you,” she said, at a loss for better words. But there was nothing else that truly needed to be said.

“I love you too, my dear,” he whispered before pulling her closer and capturing her lips with his own. At his kiss, Rey felt the cold tendrils of fear, grief and regret melt away, replaced by only the warmth and comfort of his tender love.

She pulled away after a moment, her eyes shining with happiness. But there was one last fear she knew that both of them needed to address. “Ben, what about my grandfather? He’s sure to come after us both.”

“I know. We’ll deal with him when the time comes,” he said solemnly. “But there’s no need for you to be afraid of him any longer. He’s no match for us. I’ll protect you, Rey. I promise.”

“We’ll take care of each other,” she said, finally letting relief wash over her fully, “from now on.” He nodded and hugged her tightly as they both laughed and cried in relief and joy at the knowledge that they could finally be happy together.

Rey pulled away suddenly after a long moment, her eyes wide in sudden realization. “Ben, the dinner guest will be arriving any minute!”

Ben nodded and helped her off his lap gently before standing and pushing his chair in, leaving everything as it had been before. With the exception, of course, of the level of wine in his glass being just a bit lower than that of the others.

“Then let’s head to the kitchen and take that antidote before we collapse, shall we?” Ben asked with an amused grin on his face.

“Yes, let’s,” Rey said with a smile, taking his hand as they walked out of the dining hall toward the kitchen.

“After you, my Queen,” he said fondly when they reached the kitchen entrance. She smiled up at him, her face shining with renewed hope and wholehearted affection.

As she walked on ahead of him, Ben turned back to the dining hall with a small, thoughtful smile on his face before shutting the door behind him and following his wife—his beautiful queen—down the hall.


End file.
